Yuletide Baby. Deb Kastner

Could he hear the tentativeness in her tone?

      “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a car seat, do you?” She slung out a guess.

      “That’s not a problem. A car seat isn’t necessary. It’s not an immediate issue, anyway. I’ll have to procure one eventually, I suppose, if I’m going to be the one taking Noelle to the authorities in San Antonio. But today, we can walk.”

      Her shoulders slumped in relief and she dragged in a silent breath. He hadn’t noticed her uncertainty, then. Good.

      “Then it’s settled. I’ll set an extra plate for you. Come over whenever you’re ready. Oh, and be sure to bundle Noelle up really well. There’s a bit of a chill in the air.”

      “You’re sure you don’t mind the extra company?”

      No, she wasn’t sure. She would never be sure. Probably not for one single day for the rest of her life. And she wished he would stop asking, or she was liable to give in to her doubts and capitulate.

      “I’m absolutely certain,” she reassured him for what she hoped was the last time. “I’m looking forward to seeing that precious little blessing of yours.”

      At least that was the truth.